


To Happy Harbor and Beyond

by Zoeleo



Series: Rara Avis [14]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Friendship, Gen, Or Bruce adopts Jason but doesn't make him Robin, Secret Identity, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18838531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoeleo/pseuds/Zoeleo
Summary: Dick shows up spontaneously to pick Jason up from school and take him up to Happy Harbor for a weekend of fun camping out on the beach. But things are not all as they seem, and someone starts to notice a pattern between Batman's bad nights and Jason's social calendar.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [AmariT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmariT/pseuds/AmariT)  
> for beta-ing!

Good old Gotham Academy. He can almost smell the chalk dust in the air. Do they even use chalkboards anymore, or is it all whiteboards and dry erase markers now? On the outside at least, the school looks exactly the same as when he attended, except that maintenance finally seems to have gotten that hot pink Frisbee off the roof. There’s the fountain he and Artemis poured laundry detergent in as a senior prank, and there’s the street lamp he’d twirled around while performing his  _ Singing in the Rain  _ routine in an attempt to woo the beautiful Bette Kane. He hadn’t been successful in the wooing, but it had caught Mr. Frink’s eye and earned him a spot in the school musical that year. 

Dick checks his watch and glances at the front doors. Any minute now.

The bell tolls (he notices the sound is projected through speakers mounted in the tower now) and the doors burst open, spilling a sea of kids down the front steps. He catches more than a few admiring and envious glances in his direction. He’s not sure if they’re for him or the bike, but he makes sure to drape himself a little more artfully over the handlebars of the Spitfire regardless. He’s never been able to resist playing to the crowd.

Behind his sunglasses he keeps his own eyes peeled for a mop of curly black hair. He still almost misses him, because  _ damn _ , Jason’s gotten even taller since the last time he saw him. He might even come up to Dick’s nose now. To Dick’s surprise, he’s also at the center of a knot of kids. Jason’s apparent lack of interest in making friends is something Dick’s worried about for a long time. He’s relieved to finally see Jason socializing with his peers. 

There’s a flurry of high-fives and fist-bumps as the group splits, some kids heading towards the buses, others to the parking lot where their parents wait to pick them up. Jason, Riley, and Tim head towards the back of the lot where Riley’s truck is parked in a shady spot. Dick straightens up and revs the engine to catch their attention. All three heads turn his way, and then Jason darts ahead of the others on long lanky limbs. He reminds Dick of a baby gazelle; a little awkward and a lot adorable. 

“The hell you doing here, Dickface?”

“Just here to pick up my favorite Little Wing,” Dick answers saccharine sweet.

“Don’t say shit like that,” Jason complains, wrinkling his nose. “But seriously, you’re here to pick me up from school? Why? Usually Riley takes me and Tim back home,” he says, even as he stares longingly at the bike beneath Dick.

“I know. But I’ve got the weekend off. Gonna head up to Happy Harbor to camp out on the beach with Megan and Conner and maybe a few others. Thought you might like to come too. Bruce gave it the green light, and Alf already packed you a bag so we can head straight over if you want.”

Dick pats the saddlebags enthusiastically. Jason narrows his eyes. 

“Leave right now… From school? What’s going on Dick?”

Dick’s smile falters and he sighs. 

“Bruce is sick. Nasty case of the flu. Alfred called me this morning and asked if I could take you for the weekend. Just until he isn’t contagious anymore,” Dick lies smoothly.

Bruce probably wishes he was sick. According to Alfred he’d gotten a face full of some new hyped up fear toxin in a round with Scarecrow last night. He managed to drag himself back to the cave but is still suffering from the effects and a couple of busted ribs. Dick wonders what it had him seeing. He got a tiny whiff of the stuff while intercepting a shipment last month and spent the next two hours sweating through his suit. The terrors started like they always did, watching his parents fall, but then there’d been a third body on the ground with them – Jason with a gag in his mouth and his wrists and ankles taped together, just like the night Dick had rescued him from the kidnappers, except with blue lips and milky eyes. Cold sweat drips down the back of his leather jacket making him shiver.

“I want to talk to Alfie first,” Jason demands.

Dick shakes himself from the clutches of the false memory. “Sure. Sure, of course.”

He turns to his brother’s shadows, giving Jason some privacy while he speaks with their grandfather.

“Hey Riley, good to see you.”

He levels his most devastating magazine-worthy grin at the bodyguard. It’s a tad cruel since his heart and soul are devoted to Babs, but ever since he realized the man was harboring a small crush, he can’t resist the temptation to make him squirm every now and then. 

“Good to see you too, Grayson,” is Riley’s strangled reply.

“And hey there, Timmy!” Dick greets his brother’s best friend, “Win any more science fairs lately?”

Tim blushes almost as badly as Riley and turns his gaze to his own shoes.

“No.”

“Really? You expect me to believe you’ve got nothing going on, Baby Einstein?” Dick pesters, trying to carry the conversation.

He knows the kid talks. He’s heard him go a mile a minute with Jason and Riley and even Bruce before, but for some reason he always seems to clam up around Dick. He’s a good kid, just a little strange.

“Well… I  _ am  _ making a website for a programming project in Computer Lab,” the boy admits at long last.

“Oh cool! What kind of website?” When Tim doesn’t immediately answer, he whispers loudly, “Oh my god, Timmy, it’s not a  _ porn site _ , is it?”

Tim’s eyes go wide behind his curtain of hair, mouth gaping open. He’s saved from further embarrassment by Jason passing his phone to Riley and leaning over to smack Dick in the back of the head.

“Stop terrorizing him, Dickface.”

“What?” Dick squawks, rubbing his scalp. “I was not  _ terrorizing  _ him. It was just some light-hearted brotherly teasing.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“He’s not your brother.”

“Pshaw. He’s an honorary little brother,” Dick defends and stretches an arm out to ruffle Tim’s hair. He winks at the boy, getting the flash of a tiny but pleased smile in return. “So, we all good? Got everything sorted with Alf?”

“Yeah,” Jason scowls. “Riley’s gonna go ahead and give Tim a ride home, and I guess I’m stuck with you.”

“Wow. Never, have I met anyone so upset about going to the beach to party for the weekend. Also,  _ ouch _ .”

Jason closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose giving Dick a sudden sense of déjà vu. It’s something he’s seen Bruce do a thousand times.  

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t get why I need to leave. I can help. I took care of my mom when she was sick all of the time.”

“Oh Jay, I know. And Alfred knows that too. He just—neither of them want you to get sick too. We’re doing this because we care about you. Not because they don’t want you around. And if you get sick, then poor Alfred has two people to fuss over.”

“What if Alfie gets sick?” Jason counters.

“Alf never gets sick. Never. The last time he got sick was a sniffle back in ’57.”

Jason purses his lips and shuffles his feet. Dick almost has him convinced. It’s time to go for the kill.

“Megan said she’s making those cookies with the pretzel bits in them to bring.”

Jason takes a deep breath and tilts his head back. He lets out a frustrated groan. 

“Guhhh. Alright, I guess I’m game.”

“Great. Now get on the bike, Puddleglum!” Dick crows in victory.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

It’s a long ride to Rhode Island, made longer by the traffic they run into while skirting New York. By the time Dick pulls off the road onto the strip of beach where the Bioship is parked disguised as a camper, the sun is starting to set. His temper, frayed by steadily rising road rage, is soothed back down when Jason pulls off his helmet to reveal his initial ill-humor replaced with a flush of excitement. He wonders how long it will be before Jason asks Bruce for a bike and fondly reminisces on Bruce’s expression when Jason asked to get a tattoo. 

They climb off the bike, grab their packs out of the saddlebags, and strike out across the dunes towards the group of tents clustered around the camper. Dick’s spirit lightens with every step towards his friends and teammates. Megan and Conner are sitting on coolers talking with Mal and Karen. Meanwhile Kaldur, Raquel, and Artemis watch as Wally attempts to get a fire going in a pit dug into the sand. He lifts a hand and waves in greeting, a smile splitting his face. He hasn’t gotten to see his best friends as much as he would like to since they both started at Stanford. 

He feels bad for Bruce. Really. But he’s glad Alfred called. He’s glad to have Jason with him. This is going to be an awesome weekend. 

Artie slays everyone in beer pong. Conner keeps churning out a steady stream of hotdogs and hamburgers that are just as quickly consumed by Wally. Meanwhile Megan keeps everyone well supplied with cookies and margaritas. Mal makes the mistake of napping and wakes up buried up to his neck in the sand while Karen takes pictures on her phone. Kaldur teaches Jason to surf, and Dick stretches out on a beach towel in his swimming trunks with Raquel, watching his little brother get pounded into the sand over and over.

“So how’s life?” she asks, sipping on a margarita.

“Not bad. I’ve been taking some summer courses, so I think I’ll be able to graduate in three years instead of four.”

“You in a hurry?”

Dick shakes his head. 

“Not really. I guess I just figure the faster I can get it over with the sooner I don’t have to worry about completing homework and essays on top of mission reports,” he chuckles.

“So what… you’re going to graduate and then just keep doing this? If that was the plan all along, why even bother going to college? Seems like a waste of time.”

Dick frowns. What  _ does  _ he want to do? Bruce had been the one to push him to attend college. He had picked a criminal justice major almost as joke, figuring it would be an easy pass for him. He hadn’t thought much about life after graduating. Is he really planning on living off the League’s dime in Mount Justice for the rest of his life? He can’t be Nightwing every second of every day. He needs to be Dick Grayson sometimes too. What did Dick Grayson want to be when he grew up, way back before he ever met Batman?

Raquel elbows him, and points. Jason is finally up on his board riding one in and shouting in pure exuberance. Dick throws him a double thumbs up and scrambles to find his phone so he can take a video and send it to Bruce and Alfred later.

“He’s a good kid. You’re doing a good job,” Raquel comments.

“Thanks, but I’m not sure I can take much credit for that.”

“Hey, you’re here aren’t you? Spending time with him. That’s enough. That’s  _ everything _ , especially to a kid who had nothing.”

Jason and Kaldur are paddling out to the break line once more, trying to get a few last runs in before the sun finally sinks below the horizon, indigo encroaching on the orange streaked sky. 

“I wish it was more time. Between school and missions… I mean, I’m going to Gotham U, my dorm is only like a forty-five minute drive to the manor. I should be seeing him more than I do. Honestly, if Alfred hadn’t called, I wouldn’t have thought to invite him up here with us. That’s not exactly great big brother material.”

Raquel hums and stares at him over the rim of her tumbler.

“Now see, if you weren’t a good brother – you wouldn’t have realized that, and you wouldn’t act on it even if you did realize it,” she points out.

He stifles a laugh.

“Alright, alright. You got me. I’ll make more of an effort.”

And he does. That night when everyone else has retreated to their tents, he stretches out in front of the abandoned fire pit with Jason, bellies full of s’mores and exhausted in the best way from an afternoon of sun and sea. The dying fire collapses into a pile of softly glowing embers. Its residual heat keeps them warm as they stare up at the stars twinkling into existence overhead. 

“I’ve never seen so many stars before,” Jason says in the same quiet awed voice he’d used when Dick had first taken him to the library to meet Babs. “Like I’ve seen pictures in Nat Geo and all. I know they’re there… But never like this. I mean, holy cow. That’s the Milky Way. I get it now.”

Dick has seen stars before; traveling through the American countryside with the circus, at the Kent farm, here, in Santa Prisca and other mission locations. Hell, he’s been up in  _ space.  _ Sometimes he forgets Jason hasn’t had those same experiences. Suddenly he’s overcome with a giddy joy that he’s been able to give Jason this, his first real look at the stars. 

“Yeah, I guess even Bristol isn’t really far enough out to escape all the light pollution from Gotham,” he agrees. 

The mention of home must jog Jason’s memory because almost immediately he asks, “Do you think Bruce is okay?”

Dick sighs.

“I think he’s doing just fine, Little Wing. He’s got Alfred looking after him.”

“You’re probably right. I just… I…”

“I get it. I worry about him sometimes too. If you want to check in, you could give him a ring. He’d probably like that. In the morning though,” he adds hastily. “Because Alfred will not appreciate it if you wake up his patient this late.” He tilts his head so he can look at Jason, whose eyes are still glued to the cosmos. “Hey, thanks for coming out here with me.”

Jason snorts and gives him the side-eye. 

“You’re thanking me for Alfred making you babysit me?”

The corner of Dick’s mouth tugs down.

“I‘m not babysitting you, Jay. Yeah, Alfred asked if I could pick you up for the weekend, but it’s not an obligation you know. I wanted to. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Jason huffs a little, the way he does when he’s embarrassed. A few seconds pass.

“I like hanging out with you too,” he finally whispers back, just loudly enough to be heard over the lapping waves.

Dick closes his eyes and grins, taking a second to remember this moment and the love welling deep inside his chest. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

It’s not the last time Dick scoops Jason up for an impromptu vacation, Tim notices. And others follow in his wake. Once it’s Commissioner Gordon’s daughter. Another time, a woman with a car as dark and sleek as her hair picks Jason up with a laugh to steal him away for a weekend shopping extravaganza since he’s starting to _‘grow out of those fuddy-duddy clothes that old man shoves you in, darling.’_ Her familiarity nags at him, but he can’t quite place who she is.

This time it’s a dusty green Subaru waiting for them in the parking lot their last day before Spring Break. Riley shows Jason a text on his phone and points to the car.

“Alfred said your uncle would be picking you up today? Is that him?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is,” Jason sighs.

Tim’s mouth twists. Next to him, Jason’s shoulders sag even as he yells out brightly to the broad-shouldered dark-haired man sitting behind the steering wheel. Tim chokes on his own spit.

“Hey, Uncle Clark!”

The driver’s side window rolls down and the big man leans out with a friendly smile.

“Hey, Jason! How you doing, buckaroo?”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Oh geez, Uncle Clark, never say that again. You’re so embarrassing.”

‘Uncle’ Clark’s smile only grows, showing off big white teeth and a strong chiseled jaw. Tim follows Jason to the passenger side of Superman’s car. Oh god, oh god. His heart is pounding in his chest. He’s about to meet _Superman_. Oh god! Will Superman be able to hear his pulse racing? His eyes snap up to find sunny blue ones locked on his own. The corner of Clark’s mouth twists down a fraction.

“And who is this?”

“Oh, sorry Uncle Clark. This is my best friend, Tim. Tim this is my uncle, Clark. Not like, biologically. He’s a friend of my dad’s, but he’s basically family.”

Clark nods and leans over the console to extend his hand through the passenger side window.

“Nice to meet you, Tim.”

Tim stares at it. Jason elbows him in the side. He squeaks and grabs the hand before him, giving it a brief shake. His cheeks flush under the combination of Jason and Clark’s confused amusement, but he doesn’t say anything.

Riley steps up next, “Hello Mr. Kent. I’m Riley Jamison. My boyfriend is a big fan of yours. That piece you did on Qurac? We uh, we were both deployed there and you really captured the heart of the situation. A lot of journalists get it wrong. But you did it justice. I think he actually still has that article lying around the house somewhere.”

“Oh. Well, thank you! And thank you for your service. Bruce has told me good things about you, how good a job you do keeping an eye on Jason for us.”

“Oh, no problem. He’s a great kid,” Riley jiggles his keys and and glances at his phone nervously, “Um. I hate to do this Mr. Kent, but could I ask you a favor. Tim usually catches a ride home with us. He lives next door. I’ve got something going on tonight and since you’re already here for Jason, do you mind dropping him off too? Would that be okay?”

“Not a problem,” Clark assures him.

Riley turns to Tim, “Tim, is that alright with you?”

Tim nods vigorously. Oh god, oh god. He’s not going to just _meet_ Superman. He’s going to get a ride home with Superman! He will be in the same breathing space as Superman for a prolonged period of time.

“Thank you! You are a godsend! Bye boys! I’ll see you later!” Riley calls out as he trots to his truck.

Tim ducks quietly into the back seat and tries his best to fade into the background. He takes deep calming breaths and wills his heart to slow down because Superman is looking at him again with that expression. Meanwhile Jason gracelessly dumps his school bag onto the floor through the window without a word and climbs into the passenger side seat. He kicks his feet up on the dash.

“So what is it this time? Factory accident in Detroit? Merger fall through in Shanghai? Aliens invading WE holdings in Tierra del Fuego?”

“Actually it’s ninjas in Havana with the candlestick, Colonel Mustard,” Clark quips back easily, finally tearing his eyes away from Tim.

Jason groans, “Damn it. I really had my fingers crossed for aliens this time.”

Tim tenses at the irony, but Clark just laughs. It’s a nice laugh, full and hearty. The car feels emptier when it ends.

“Emergency call to one of the plants in Markovia,” Clark offers after a moment, “Workers are threatening a strike. Sorry, Jay.”

His best friend’s voice loses all of its playful teasing and he just sounds resigned when he replies.

“I know. It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize.”

Tim can empathize. He knows how much it hurts when his parents leave him behind all of the time too. At least Jason has a whole bunch of other people who care about him and love him. All Tim has is Mrs. Mac.

“Well, hey,” Clark starts up again, injecting enthusiasm into every word, “Want to come out to the farm with me? You’ve never been out to my Ma and Pa’s right? They’d love to meet you. Pa might make you come out and help us with some of the chores, but Ma makes the best pie you’ve ever had. Makes it all worth it in the end.”

“Uhh. I, uh. I’ve never been to a farm before. I guess it could be… interesting,” Jason responds cautiously.

A few beats of awkward silence pass.

“So… Like… Will there be cows?”

Clark’s laughter booms through the enclosed space once more.

 

***

 

Tim can’t sleep that night. He stays up late. Granted, he stays up late most nights since he doesn’t have someone to tell him to go to bed. He sits cross-legged on his bed with a laptop propped open on his knees and scrolls through the ‘Batman Sightings’ website he built for his programming project last year. He hadn’t been able to hit the streets with his camera last night, choosing to stay in and study for midterms, a choice he now regrets as his stomach gnaws at itself with worry.

If Superman was picking up Jason for the week, there couldn’t be an international disaster of any kind going on or he would be gone too. What would be bad enough to take Bruce a week to recover from? Four of the site’s most faithful users have recent posts. He clicks them open and winces at a series of blurry snapshots of Batman facing down Killer Croc by the docks.

Tim chews nervously on his lip.

It’s not his place to get involved. He’s not sure why Bruce hasn’t told Jason that he’s Batman. He can only assume it’s to keep him safe, which is noble enough he supposes. Tim isn’t sure he agrees that lying is a good idea, but he wants Jason to be safe too. He doesn’t have another best friend. But Bruce is going about it all wrong. If he keeps doing things the way he has, Jason is going to figure it out. He’s confided his fears and frustrations to Tim, already suspicious of his father’s spontaneous and many absences.

Tim squeezes his eyes shut and snaps his laptop shut. He rocks back and forth on his bed exactly ten times, then bolts to his closet and grabs a coat before he can chicken out. Mrs. Mac goes home at night to her own family so there’s no one to sneak past. He dashes down the front staircase and unarms and rearms the security alarm on the front door. The walk to Wayne Manor is familiar enough to him that he can avoid the rabbit holes and bramble patches even in the dark.

He bypasses the front completely and makes his way straight to the kitchen door the family uses. The lights are on in there and he can see Alfred seated at the breakfast nook with a cup of tea in one hand and a gardening magazine in the other. Tim knocks. Alfred glances up and meets his gaze through the nine-pane window. The butler’s eyebrows rise up towards his receding hairline and he sets down his paper and cup to answer the door.

“Why, Master Timothy. What are you doing here at this hour? Indeed, what are you doing up at all this late? Is everything alright?”

“I need to speak with Mr. Wayne. Please!”

Those eloquent eyebrows arch even higher.

“I’m afraid that’s not a possibility. Master Bruce is not available right now. If it’s something that cannot wait till morning you may tell me and I will pass it on to him when I see him next.”

Tim balls his hands into fists.

“I know he’s here! I need to speak with him, please! I know he’s Batman!”

Up until now, Tim didn’t think it was possible to surprise the old expat. The man covers his momentary lapse by snapping his jaw back up and quickly admonishing Tim.

“Now I don’t know what has put such nonsense into your head young man, but I’ve had quite enough of this tomfoolery and I think it’s time for you to return to your own bed in your own home.”

Tim blinks, shocked by the blatant rejection.

“No! Please, Mr. Pennyworth! I know the truth! I know Bruce Wayne is Batman and Dick Grayson is Nightwing. I was at the circus when the Graysons fell. I saw Dick do the quadruple flip, just like Robin, just like Nightwing! Please!”

Alfred frowns mightily.

“Master Timothy, I understand that the young mind is often inclined to create fantasies, and invents connections where there are none. While I do not doubt you have the best intentions at heart, I must request that you put aside this delusion.”

“But Alfred—!”

“Young man, do not make me repeat myself! I think I would notice if I was cleaning up after man who went out dressed as a bat every night,” the butler snaps uncharacteristically, catching Tim off guard. “Now, wait here. I’m going to call your parents to come pick you up.”

Tim’s cheeks burn hot in frustration and embarrassment. It’s not fair. He _knows_ he’s right! Is it possible that Bruce and Dick cover their tracks even from Alfred? He has a hard time believing that’s possible. Alfred has eyes in the back of his head.

“Don’t bother,” he pouts, “They’re not home.”

“Then your guardian.”

“Mrs. Mac doesn’t stay the night.”  
  


Alfred’s hand pauses over the kitchen phone.

“Am I to believe that you are completely alone at home?”

Tim quickly wipes away the tears that are threatening to spill from his lower lashes.

“Uh, yeah?” he sniffs.

“And is this an often occurrence?”

Tim looks down at his shoes. He’s tracked dirt onto the tile floor.

“Um, no?” he lies.

Alfred sighs. He diverts from the phone to retrieve a set of keys off the hook by the door.

“I am not in the habit of allowing minors to live unattended. However, Master Bruce is quite ill at the moment. A bad case of the flu. I cannot in good faith put you at risk by letting you stay here either, not after we already made Master Jason leave for that very reason. I will drive you home. And then first thing in the morning I will have a chat with this Mrs. Mac to make more appropriate arrangements. Leaving a young child alone over night? Preposterous. Follow me.”

 

***

 

Months later Tim gets an alert during lunch. It’s an automated message from his website telling him to check new uploaded content. He excuses himself to the restroom and holes up in one of the stalls. He takes a seat on the toilet and logs in to the website as an admin. A flurry of gag-worthy videos have been posted since late last night, pinging the filters he’d set up the day after Alfred took him home.

Quite a few people in the park last night had witnessed Poison Ivy plant a liplock on the Bat. She almost succeeded in making fertilizer out of him, but a hissing Catwoman had intervened, launching into the fray and managing to shove a wobbly Batman into the Batmobile. He closes the browser excitedly.

Okay, so Alfred had shut him down. It had hurt at first, but he couldn’t blame the elderly man—he was just trying to protect his family. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still help from the sidelines. Maybe it’s not in the way Dick helped Batman as Robin, but he’s still _helping Batman!_ How awesome is that? He’s helping out the Dark Knight while _also_ getting to hang out with his best friend. He and Jason can play video games and eat junk food and swap secrets and maybe since his parents are off in Jordan on a dig they could get away with having a nerf gun battle…

He skips back to the lunch table and and pokes Jason in the side.

“Hey, do you wanna come over tonight? I just got the new Bioshock.”

“Really? Sweet! Yeah, let me call Alfred and ask! I’ve heard Infinite is even better than 2!” Jason enthuses.

Yes.  _This is better for everyone_.

 


	3. Author Note

Hello Everyone... So you have spoken. And I have listened. And I think you were right. The level of manipulation from the adults, while pretty IC for the canon characters, really goes against the tone I have set here, making them OOC for this universe. I've made some pretty big edits to the last chapter which will allow the plot to unfold the same way for Jason's future - Tim does decide to roll with the pattern that Jason's family has set but without the colluding with them, so it's less of a conspiracy feel. Hope you don't mind a re-read and fingers crossed that this vibes better!


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